Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(44)
Randa’s mouth was fixed into a sneer, but under this he had begun to tremble. A threat of death, given and received; and Katsa felt it ringing in her fingertips. And she saw that she could do it now, she could kill him right now. The disdain in his eyes would disappear, and his sneer would slide away. Her fingers itched, for she could do it now with the snatch of a dagger.
And then what? a small voice inside herself whispered; and Katsa caught her breath, stricken. And then what? A bloodbath, one she’d be lucky to escape. Raffin would become king, and his first inheritance would be the task of killing the murderer of his father. A charge he couldn’t avoid if he meant to rule justly as the King of the Middluns; and a charge that would break his heart, and make her an enemy, and a stranger.
And Po would hear of it as he was leaving. He’d hear that she’d lost control and killed her uncle, that she’d caused her own exile and broken Raffin’s spirit. He would return to Lienid and watch from his balcony as the sun dropped behind the sea; and he’d shake his head in the orange light and wonder why she’d allowed this to happen, when she held so much power in her hands.
Where is your faith in your power? the voice whispered now You don’t have to shed blood. And Katsa saw what she was doing, here in this throne room. She saw Randa, pale, gripping the arms of his throne so hard it seemed he might break them. In a moment he would motion to his archers to strike, out of fear, out of the terror of waiting for her to make the first move.
Tears came to her eyes. Mercy was more frightening than murder, because it was harder, and Randa didn’t deserve it.
And even though she wanted what the voice wanted, she didn’t think she had the courage for it.
Po thinks you have the courage, the voice said fiercely. Pretend that you believe he’s right. Believe him, for just a moment.
Pretend. Her fingers were screaming, but maybe she could pretend long enough to get out of this room.
Katsa raised burning eyes to the king. Her voice shook. “I’m leaving the court,” she said. “Don’t try to stop me. I promise you’ll regret it if you do. Forget about me once I’m gone, for I won’t consent to live like a tracked animal. I’m no longer yours to command.”
His eyes were wide, and his mouth open. She turned and rushed down the long carpet, her ears tuned to the silence, readying her to spin around at the first hint of a bowstring or a sword. As she passed through her uncle’s great doors she felt the weight of hundreds of astonished eyes on her back; and none of them knew she had been only a breath, a twitch, away from changing her mind.
PART TWO:
The Twisted King
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They left well before daylight. Raffin and Bann saw them off, the two medicine makers bleary-eyed, Bann yawning endlessly. The morning was cold, and Katsa was wide awake, and quiet. For she was shy of her riding partner; and she felt strange about Raffin, so strange that she wished he wasn’t there. If Raffin hadn’t been there watching her go, then perhaps she’d have been able to pretend she wasn’t leaving him. With Raffin there, there was no pretense, and she was unable to do anything about the strange painful water that rose into her eyes and throat, every time she looked at him.
They were impossible, these two men, for if one did not make her cry, the other did. What HeIda would make of it she could only imagine; and she hadn’t liked saying good-bye to Helda either, or Oll. No, there was little to be happy of this morning, except that she was not, at least, leaving Po; and he was probably standing there beside his horse registering her every feeling on the matter. She gave him a withering look for good measure, and he raised his eyebrows and smiled and yawned. Well. And he’d better not ride as if he were half asleep, or she’d leave him in the dust. She was not in the mood to dawdle.
Raffin fussed back and forth between their horses, checking saddles, testing the holds of their stirrups. “I suppose I needn’t worry about your safety,” he said, “with the two of you riding together.”
“We’ll be safe.” Katsa yanked at a strap that held a bag to her saddle. She tossed a bag over her horse’s back to Po.
“You have the list of Council contacts in Sunder?” Raffin asked. “And the maps? You have food for the day? You have money?”
Katsa smiled up at him then, for he sounded as she imagined a mother would sound if her child were leaving forever. “Po’s a prince of Lienid,” she said. “Why do you think he rides such a big horse, if not to carry his bags of gold?”
Raffin’s eyes laughed down at her. “Take this.” He closed her hands over a small satchel. “It’s a bag of medicines, in case you should need them. I’ve marked them so you’ll know what each is for.”
Po came forward then and held his hand out to Bann. “Thank you for all you’ve done.” He took Raffin’s hand.
“You’ll take care of my grandfather in my absence?”
“He’ll be safe with us,” Raffin said.
Po swung onto the back of his horse, and Katsa took Bann’s hands and squeezed them. And then she stood before Raffin and looked up into his face.
“Well,” Raffin said. “You’ll let us know how you’re faring, when you’re able?”
“Of course,” Katsa said.